


to Wander is to be Alive

by Anonymous



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Circus, Birthday Smut, Canon Compliant, Cock Warming, Come Eating, Credence Barebone Gets a Hug, Fluff and Angst, Gellert Grindelwald Never Impersonated Percival Graves, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Past Rape/Non-con, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prompt Fill, Protective Original Percival Graves, Rimming, Smutty, Underage Sex, credence crying during sex, drifter for fun graves, for a friend :D, graves shushing during sex, he is a weird one, ish, rich graves, the tiniest mention of theseus, werewolfism instead of obscurus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-22
Updated: 2017-05-22
Packaged: 2018-11-03 12:11:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10966971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Credence has only known one life, that of a circus freak, an oddity, until one day a man strolls in, without the usual propensity to take, take, and walk away leaving a shattered mess behind.





	to Wander is to be Alive

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WaywardGraves](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaywardGraves/gifts).



> happy birthday waywardgraves!!!! 
> 
>  
> 
> yay more porn whew.

He hopped on a train headed out of New York, because he was bored. He had oodles of vacation time just sitting and collecting dust, so it was high time to _do something about it_.

The city that never slept was beginning to wear on him. It was time to go see some sights, and then return in as long as it took him to ride back home.

He wore a duster and a tan coat, with his shirt dark navy and pants the color of charcoal. He looked ordinary, and felt renewed.

 

Percival Graves, Director of Magical Security was no more, for the time being.

 

Percy Graves, or just Graves, winsome and lonely drifter was born.

 

Travelling without magic was certainly an adventure, and he learned a lot more about the average person, than when simply apparating here and there dictated. It wasn’t until he ended up halfway across the country, staring up at a garish banner in yellow and red, that he decided to stop. He’d never been to the Ringling Brothers shows when they passed through New York, so perhaps the little troupe in front of him would be worth his while.

He strolled past neon signs and flashing lights, and ignored most of the displays and the oddities, they were merely charmed or enchanted, and fooled no-maj’s easily enough. He was not the usual customer, it seemed.

There was only one banner that he saw, that caught his eye, and forced him forward, ever closer, to investigate properly.

He’d never heard of such a thing. A domesticated werewolf? Much less a trapped one. Usually they slaughtered anyone who tried to get too close. _Protego_ was no use against a creature with a moon addled mind, and human DNA at their core.

Ignoring the man sitting outside the small structure, only to toss him a dragot, Graves stepped up and began to walk inside.

“Oy. wait a minute, you haven’t heard the tale!”

Graves glanced back, with a slight quirk to his lips, not a smile, not a smirk, not yet.

“What’s that then? A wild story of how you managed to tame a werewolf? More than likely, it’s some hairy no-maj you’ve _imperiused_. I’m less than thrilled. Be glad you got paid rather than stunned.”

The room was all but empty, for a cage. In the dim light, that much of which that streamed in through the cracks in the fragile walls, Graves could just make out a pale, slim figure curled into itself beyond the bars, at the very back of the cage, with no visible fur, or even excessive body hair, but for a dark mass of waves on their head.

Frowning, he turned around to see the hosting sleaze following him in, arms crossed, and a brow lifted.

Graves hissed out a breath, and cast a silent _revelio_ , and there was nothing, no indication of other spells at work, nor visible restraints.

 _‘Where is the real creature?’_ He wondered to himself.

“S’not nighttime during a full moon.” The host spit out, and Graves realized he must have put his query to words by accident.

“I see.”

How young could the werewolf be, to be so docile? There were no marks, no scars from a whip, and certainly not a sound uttered, the closer he got, the more intriguing the figure became.

Of course, the beast was mere boy, right now, hidden away from what would cause their transformation. So had Graves just allowed himself to be robbed of his somewhat precious dragot?

Hell no. Though he’d brought more than enough pocket change for his trip, it didn’t matter. He wasn’t about to throw a single bit away.

Graves gritted his teeth, determined, one way or another, to get his money's worth.

He was much stronger than he looked, currently, so a proper glare did the job better than his fists could, sending the idiot host running off.

He dropped to his knees beside the cage, and tapped a bar, snagging the creature’s attention. It lifted it’s head and turned to look over at him, dark waves sliding over its pale skin, blinking brown eyes red from crying, and revealing cheeks wet with shed tears.

“Hello there. So you’re the fearsome, mythical, big bad wolf?”

Graves can’t help smirking, but the expression slid off his face the second he focused, and realized that the werewolf, still as a human, couldn’t be an Ilvermorny graduate. His soft cheeks framed a sharp jawline, but lanky limbs and his overall hairless form belied a young age.

  
“Yes sir. Are you scared of me?”

 

Graves tried to smile again, more gently now, and held out his hand, curling his fingers with a silent _alohamora_ , unlocking the door, freeing the beast, somewhat.

He could feel a charm around the building, that would keep the boy in, should he try to escape. Magic licked against his skin too, but he was no threat, having paid his entrance fee.

The boy got up slowly, wincing from his body’s soreness, no doubt used to resting when not transformed, and crawled over to him, rubbing his cheek over Graves’ knee closest to him.

He tried to ignore how it made his heart skip a beat, and his cock twitch in his pants, but the boy’s sheer otherworldly beauty made it very difficult.

He was painfully sweet, and it was frightening to consider how young he’d been when first bitten, and then gotten caught by the circus.

“I can help you. I can get you out of here. I just need you to do something for me.”

The boy blinked up at him, dark liquid stare easily entrancing him, making him that much harder,

“Sir, I’m yours to command. You paid for your visit.”

Graves cupped a hand against the boy’s face, revelling in the silkiness of his skin, rubbing a thumb over his damp cheek, brushing away any more tears.

“I mean it. Do me a favor, and I’ll take you with me. I promise.”

The boy seemed confused, poor thing, and reached up to press his hand over Graves,’

“Everyone says that sir. I must always refuse. I am the property of the Grand Master. I cannot go with you. But I will do anything you ask.”

Graves inhaled sharply.

That won’t do at all.

Guilt was gnawing at him, deep down, the thought of walking away, just returning to his life someday, to work, knowing he’d left such an innocent and defenseless creature behind, would likely bother him for the rest of his life.

It certainly didn’t hurt that the boy was so lovely.

Mercy Lewis.

“Come here.”

He stood back up, drawing the boy with him, so that he was kneeling proper before Graves, and he licked his lips, drawing his gaze to them instantly.

Oh, how pink, plush, and simply begging to be kissed the boy was.

His thumb dropped down to drag at the boy’s bottom lip, and revealed perfectly normal human teeth, a bit crooked, but clean enough.

So they fed him something decent and looked after him enough. But did they keep him in the cage _during_ the full moon?

What horror.

“What will you have me do sir?”

Graves managed another deep breath, and then reached to his fly with his other hand.

“Hold me in your mouth. Do nothing else. Keep still while I think. All right?”

The boy nodded, looking on the verge of smiling happily, until Graves’ cock nearly smacked him in the face and he murmured an apology, five seconds before it was swallowed down the boy’s throat.

 

“Stay. Good boy.”

 

The boy’s mouth was wet, warm, and in general, quite comfortable, but even as he simply swallowed and breathed around Graves’ cock, little slivers of pleasure crawled down his spine, and thinking became a bit more difficult than he’d anticipated. Disapparating from the building was out of the question, and just destroying the protective spells and enchantments around the circus was much more trouble than it was worth. Graves put a hand to the back of the boy’s head, fingers carding through his hair, the nape of his neck soft, almost like downy fur, and the boy hummed around him.

He was excellent at warming Graves’ cock, and in fact, he didn’t really want to keep still much longer.

He glanced down, drinking in the sight of the rest of the boy, folded at his feet. He had unmarked creamy skin over his back and front, with two pert pink nipples, and further down, his stomach dipped in as his soft slim cock rested in repose atop his thighs. Oh yes, he was beautiful to look at, and would be a treat to fuck.

Graves hummed to himself, and the boy made a questioning sound, along with a gentle tap from a hand against one of his legs. He tightened his hand in the boy’s hair, and tugged him back, so that his pretty mouth let go of Graves’ cock, connected only by a string of drool.

“I’d like a bit more now, I think.”

“Anything sir. Do you want me to bend over?”  
The boy was shuffling up and already standing in front of his cage, turning back to ensure Graves was watching, as he drew attention to the soft swell of his ass.

Graves’ throat went dry, and he stepped close to put his cock flush behind the boy, then dropping a hand to each hip, feeling as he jumped in response to the fairly gentle touch.

“Am I to understand I won’t be your first?”

“No sir. Every time after they heal me. So I can be properly tight again for the next customer who desires it.”

The boy’s cheeks turn pink with the admission, and Graves wondered if he was the first to be told such a truth. If the boy lied to everyone else, and assured them he was a virgin, just for them.

The thought infuriated him, and he tried to count back from ten, before reaching down to thumb over the boy’s tightly furled entrance. His hole was pink and as hairless as the rest of him. The touch made him twitch, but not away, he pushed back into it, silently begging for more. Graves complied instantly, murmuring low for a lubrication charm, because no, he wasn’t about to make the boy bleed, not when he’d likely been railed many times before by some thoughtless idiots.

He pressed another finger in, and the boy mewled, writhing beneath his hand, trembling under the hand steadying his hip. Before Graves could stop himself, he leaned down, and put his mouth to the boy’s shoulder, kissing him and then licking up his neck, nipping gently at the unblemished skin, leaving a pink mark which would fade in moments. The sight of it only made him want to do more, and claim the boy as his own, permanently.

Adopting a werewolf would probably not go over very well back home, but the Graves estate was vast, open areas of equally grassy and forested land. The boy could be free, more so than he would ever find inside a cage, kept as a circus freak, for amusement of the masses.

Sooner or later, if he stayed there, in the troupe, he would end up biting some fool who got too close during his transformed time, then he would need to be put down.

Such a gorgeous creature, barely in on his way to being an adult, why, that would have been a crime, to slay something so sweet.

Graves petted the boy’s side, before withdrawing his hand, dripping with slick, and putting it to stroke over his cock, groaning aloud.

“Sir? May I touch myself?”

Graves swallowed, and shook his head,

“No. I’ll make you come when I want to, don’t you worry.”

He dragged a hand from the boy’s hip to splay over his lower back, the ridges of his spine very obvious under his fingers, as he lined up his cock, pushing the head against the warm slickness of the boy’s hole, staring at the pink flutter of muscle.

It was as if the boy’s ass was hungry for his cock, desperate to be filled with his come, and Graves couldn’t resist any longer, thrusting inside, fully seating himself in a heartstopping moment.

The boy gasped, and shuddered beneath him, hands braced flat on the top of the cage, as he was bent somewhat over it, but framed under Graves’ hold.

“Perfect.”

Graves managed to croak aloud, before pulling out halfway, nudging back in, the hot grasp on his cock enough to throw him dangerously close to the edge, after such sweet torture, the bliss of the boy’s mouth on him, teasingly gentle, compared now to fucking him.

He didn’t want to ignore the boy, but he was doing his utmost to seem indifferent, lest he get his hopes up only for Graves to be unable to rescue him. He kept one hand on the boy’s hip for leverage and the other at his shoulder, gripping tightly, as he pumped his cock deeper, groaning at the feel, and the boy head fell back, resting against his shoulder, lips grazing his cheek, begging for a kiss in vain.

When his orgasm washed over him, making every cell in his body tingle and spark, Graves tilted his head down to nip at the boy’s neck, and sucked hard, leaving a mark that would need magic to be removed, and he savored the gasp that escaped the boy’s throat.

Sliding his hand around the boy’s waist, caressing the smoothness of his skin, he wrapped his fingers around the boy’s dripping cock, and stroked over him under he heard a whimper, and wetness spilled onto his hand, as the boy came.

“Sir, please…”

Whatever the boy was about to say, Graves shushed him, and pulled back, kissing his way down the knobs of his spine, until he was licking right between his cheeks, tasting himself mingled with the slippery sweet of the lubrication. His own invention, to make the cleanup more interesting. A former lovers idea, he’d finally seen the reason, when he’d first let someone take him.

The boy tried to jerk away, hyper-sensitive no doubt, but Graves merely smiled, and held him tighter, kissing lower and sucking hard, leaving a mark on the silky soft skin of his taint.

So he would feel it with every step he took, beyond having just been fucked.

When he stood back up and began to redress himself, the boy turned around on coltish legs, and looked at him with teary eyes.

“You’ve been a delight, dear boy. Not much of the wolf in you after all, but now _I_ am.”

He couldn’t help the smirk that split his lips, and the boy’s eyes locked on his mouth as he licked over his bottom lip, before leaning in to peck the boy’s own with a kiss.

The boy chased after it for a moment, and then threw his arms around Graves’ neck, clinging to him in a sudden show of affection.

“What’s this?”

“Sir… no one has ever been so considerate.”

The boy’s bottom lip wobbled, and fresh tears spilled over his cheeks, forcing Graves’ heart to lodge in his throat. He was not going to abandon the boy.

He couldn’t.

The gratitude he would show him would more than enough be motivation for him to stay and serve him well.

“That’s too bad. You’re not an animal to be kept in a cage. You’re a soul who deserves a second chance.”

The boy drew in a ragged breath,

“The master says I am a diseased wretch. Born beneath a full moon, a monster.”

Graves put a hand to the boy’s cheek, cursing himself for adoring the way that the boy nuzzled into his palm, as he clucked his tongue into his teeth,

“Nonsense. You’re no more a monster than a vampire is. I don’t suppose there’s one here?”

The boy’s eyes widened, and he shook his head furiously,

“A blood drinker? Oh no sir. We have not got one of those.”

“Good. They’re dangerous. Unpredictable.”

Graves palmed his wand, still tucked into his jacket, and glanced away from the boy, taking in the building again, the cage hanging open, looking bereft.

It would no longer house the beautiful boy who sometimes became less than human.

“Wait here. I’ll be back in a moment.”

The boy nodded, and then sunk down into the floor again, content to remain outside his cage.

 

Graves strode outside with purpose, and tested the host by hexing him, a simple _incarcerus_ , upon receiving no battle, he watched the man collapse, and he grinned to himself.

A squib, it seemed.

Leaving a squib to guard a werewolf was very foolish indeed.

 

*

 

Credence’s head was spinning, but the instantly the pressure on his lungs subsided, and he could breathe deeply, he felt nauseous.

A broad palm clapped over his back, nudging him forward, and he coughed.

“It’s quite normal to feel sick. Side along apparation isn’t easy.”

“Sir, what is that? Where are we?”

“Somewhere outside Albany. I don’t know the name, because, you see, it’s unplottable. My family estate.”

The man held out a hand, and as he took it, he was helped to his feet in a swift instant, throwing off his balance, causing him to crash into the man’s chest, hard muscle not quite softening the impact.

He stammered out his apologies, but looked up to find the man smiling gently.

“Not to worry. Tell me, dear one, what’s your name? Besides the wild werewolf?”

Credence blinked at him, and tried not to cry.

“It’s just Credence sir. But no one ever calls me that.”

“Why, it’s a suitable name. I’m Percival Graves, at your uh, service. Welcome to my country home.”

He smiled again, and Credence ducked his gaze to the ground, wishing he could shrink right into it. He couldn’t possibly set foot inside a house, not in his current state. He needed clothing. He looked horrific. He could still feel wet stickiness sliding down his thighs.

“Thank you sir.”

“Here.”

Heavy fabric was thrown about his shoulders, and Credence realized the man had set his coat over him, and he shivered at the sudden warmth seeping into his skin. It was far too large for him, and so he didn’t even attempt to put his hands through the sleeves, but he blinked up in gratitude, trying to find the right way to convey his thankfulness beyond words.

“Come now. I’m sure you must be starving. I am. Been on the road two weeks and yet here we are, back to square one. A fruitful trip though, to be sure.”

The man, Mister Graves, put a strong arm around his waist, and tugged him close, guiding him up to the main gardens, and towards the front of the house.

It was a vast mansion, hardly fitting to call it a home, Credence thought to himself..

Certainly not a place he deserved to stay in, and he faltered at the threshold, but Mister Graves urged him forward, and he obeyed, as it was all he could do.

“How old are you, Credence? How long have you been a werewolf?”

“Fourteen sir, I’ve been transforming every full moon for as long as I can remember.”

The man sighed, and put a hand to his temples,

“I’m sorry to hear that. You must have been very young when you were bitten.”

Credence frowned, confused.

“Bitten? Sir, I was born a monster.”

“Stop it. You’re not a monster. You were turned into what you are by a careless fool, or worse, someone who did it deliberately, _they_ were the real monster.”

Mister Graves framed his face in both of his large hands, and Credence was forced to meet his gaze, watching as he leaned in close, and pressed his lips to his own.

His eyes remained wide open for a few moments, before he felt warm wetness from the man’s tongue grazing over his bottom lip, and he gasped in surprise, allowing it to slide between and into his mouth.

“Credence, dear boy, I want to give you things, make you feel safe. Will you let me take care of you?”

“Yes. Please.”

Credence found himself begging, and the man kissed him that much harder, before then pulling him flush to his body, letting him feel the hardness digging into his hip.

“You see what you do to me?”

He could only nod, and the man’s mouth left his own, to kiss and lick over his neck, nipping to mark him, first gently, then a bit harder, so that he squealed and squirmed against him.

“We can eat later. I need you right now.”

The man scooped Credence into his arms, and walked purposefully down a long hallway, before kicking a door in, and revealing a lavish and spacious bedroom which he barely had time to take in, before he was being placed on a four poster bed, and Mister Graves was putting his mouth back to his skin, pushing open his coat and putting a hand to one of his nipples.

Mister Graves pinched it just enough to make him jump and try to shrink away, before letting go, and kissing his navel, then right down the dip of his stomach and the curve of his hipbone, before rubbing his cheek against Credence’s own aching cock.

The head was slick, dripping onto his skin obscenely, before the man had even touched it, and Credence cried out from the feel of a mouth over it.

No wonder men paid so highly for such a thing, it felt wondrous, magical, and his back arched as he pushed up into the touch, silently begging for more.

Mister Graves chuckled against him, the sound vibrating through his body, heat blooming over his abdomen, as a firm hand pressed his hips back down onto the bed,

“I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk. I’ll bring you breakfast in bed, and then have you again. How does that sound?”

Credence was mindless, drowning in the pleasant sensations coursing through him, so unaccustomed after years of torment and pain, he barely realized when his orgasm started until he felt Mister Graves pull away, and a tight grip at the base of his cock, halting everything in a sudden crash of feelings.

He gasped and looked down to find a golden ring gleaming around him, slid into place by the man’s deft fingers, before a kiss was placed on the tip of his cock, and he jumped.

“There we go. Can’t do silver, might hurt you. This way you’ll get to come when I say.”

Credence blinked away tears of bliss,

“Thank you sir. Are you going to…”

He trailed off, as Mister Graves reached down and rubbed a fingertip over his hole, and he felt another spear of arousal jolt down his spine, ever teasing, and pointless in a way, as he was prevented from finishing, with the ring on him.

The man moved back to begin shedding his own clothing leisurely, almost painfully slow, but his prominent erection betrayed his own wants, though when Credence reached for it to help, his hand was slapped away.

“Not yet, my boy.”

As he watched, Mister Graves put a hand to himself, stroking over his cock, which looked frighteningly thick, head on. The man smirked down at him, as Credence drew the inevitable comparison between them.

His own cock was much longer but very thin, barely as wide as the man’s biggest finger, and continuously weeping clear fluid, red and flushed at the tip.

“Please.”

His voice sounded hoarse, and he saw how the man’s smile twitched,

“You want my cock? You want me to fill you up, with no preparation?”

Credence had taken worse, he knew, so he just nodded. He was desperate to be touched.

Mister Graves pushed his legs further apart, pinning one against his chest and dragging a hand over his other calf, making his skin turn to gooseflesh, before bringing that leg up to rest on the man’s shoulder, turning to kiss Credence’s ankle, thrusting against him, not quite catching his cock against his sensitive rim.

“Please!”

There was a slight burn of the stretch, before he saw Mister Graves’ mouth move silently, and a slow slick press, as the man’s cock slid fully into him, making him arch his back, shifting closer, tears stinging his eyes.

It hurt, but better than any other encounter had.

Even their first had been so good, so nice, and yet not quite enough.

Now he was kept on the edge of coming, forced over it but not able to yield his orgasm, instead, he felt every inch of Mister Graves pounding into him, hands scrabbling for a hold on the man’s chest, shoulders, and the eventual meeting of their lips, distracted him just a little.

“It’s going to be hell keeping my hands off you when the moon becomes full.”

Mister Graves sighed against his neck, before kissing him again, making him wonder if maybe there was a way, if there was magic to slow it or change it, so that he wouldn’t need to be a wolf for nearly as long as usual.

“Thank you sir…”

“Don’t thank me yet, sweetheart. You’re still hard.”

The man cooed against his ear, thrusting in harder, deeper, fucking Credence through his own orgasm, and he could feel as well as hear the squelch of the man’s spend inside him, spilling out around his cock, wetting the sheets beneath him.

“May I come now?”

Mister Graves chuckled, collapsing atop him, so that he couldn’t help but rut up, thrusting his painfully hard cock into the firm muscles of the man’s stomach, trying to seek out friction by any means necessary.

“Yes you may… good boy.”

Credence’s eyes shot open and he moaned wantonly as he felt the ring vanish, and his cock finally pulsed out rope after rope of come onto his chest, and even up to his neck, while Mister Graves reached a hand down to finger at his still slippery opening, making him shiver into the aftershocks coursing through his body.

“Thank you.”

“You’re quite welcome, my boy.”

Credence didn’t notice being cleaned by a spell, but he _did_ feel the softness of a blanket tucked around him, and dimly noted a kiss ghosting over his cheek.

Strong arms held him until he fell asleep.

 

 


End file.
